Whispers in the Snow
by SpiritSoul698
Summary: She woke up forgetting everything about who she was. The only thing she could recall was a searing pain in her chest and someone telling her to find the man who goes by the name 'Raphael Sorel'.
1. Chapter 1 - An Order Given

**This is my very first fanfic. Reviews are appreciated. Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

The woman's breath came out in small puffs of white mist as she lay slumped against the wall. The snowflakes fell all around her, many of them just barely brushing against her bloody skin.

She had been defeated.

Weakly, she lifted her head, causing her pale blue eyes to meet the cold stare of red eyes which belonged to a well-dressed blond-haired man. The blade of the rapier in his left hand glistened with her own blood, which was slowly dripping off the metal and staining the snow near his feet a bright red. She nearly wanted to throw up at the sight of it.

The man stared at her for a moment in silence before glancing down at himself. He gave an irritated sigh and lifted his right arm slightly, revealing that some of the black fabric had been torn.

"You know, mademoiselle, I'm not very pleased with the fact that you ruined my suit," he remarked, his voice having a hint of a French accent. "Quite annoyed, in fact. You are obviously unaware of just how much time and effort goes into maintaining it." But despite his words, a smile curled the man's lips as he met her eyes again. "But I'll forgive you just this once. After all, it's quite obvious why you'd want to protect yourself from someone...some _ **thing**_ like me."

Without saying another word, the man rested the tip of his sword underneath her chin, tilting her head up a few degrees. But the woman did not fight back, for she had no energy left to do so.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you," the man replied. Slowly, he dragged the blade down her body until it rested between her breasts.

"W-why…?" she asked him weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you...doing this? W-why me?"

"Why?" The man leaned forward, his breath on her ear warm in contrast with the surrounding winter air. "Because, my dear, I know you possess information which I need. I overheard your conversation with your fellow witch friends back at the tavern."

The woman's eyes widened with shock as the man pulled away from her, the tip of his sword still pointed at her chest. "You… you heard…"

The man's grin widened, revealing pointy fanged teeth.

"A normal human wouldn't have been able to hear you, but I am so much more than that." He gently trailed the fingers of his free hand down her cheek. "And, in time, you shall tell me everything I want to know."

With that, the man slashed downward with his sword, tearing the woman's brown dress and slicing deeply into her skin. A surprised gasp had just barely begun to escape her throat before the man suddenly cast his rapier aside, grabbed hold of her shoulders, and bit down on her neck. His fangs pierced the skin with ease, and before long warm, red blood flowed into his mouth. He drank it eagerly, holding the woman tightly against him as her entire body shook. When he'd deemed that he'd finally had enough, he pulled away, but still held her in his arms.

"Strange…" he murmured after a moment of silence. "Almost tastes like...honey…"

The witch cracked open her eyes and looked up at him. "Wh-what...are you?" she groaned weakly.

The red-eyed man met her eyes again, and a smile spread across his face once more.

"I am like you, mademoiselle," he answered. "An outcast. A criminal..." With one hand, he reached into his pocket and produced a small glowing red shard. It was about half the size of his thumb. "...An abomination."

The woman stared at the red shard in silence. She could feel an unmistakable evil energy radiating off of it. "Soul Edge…" she mouthed, not a single sound escaping past her lips.

Silently, the man led the shard of the cursed sword to the deep gash on her chest. As soon as it was placed inside the depths of her body, the witch felt an intense heat spread throughout her entire being. She shut her eyes tightly. It was agonizing. She wanted to scream, but when she opened her mouth, no sound came out.

"Listen closely," the man whispered to her. "When you wake up from this, I want you to immediately head for the land of Wallachia in Romania. When you get there, ask where you can find the man who goes by the name of 'Raphael Sorel'."

The witch tried to open her eyes again, but her entire body felt extremely heavy. The man's orders echoed in her mind as her head lolled forward and her body went limp in his arms.

When she opened her eyes again, she was inside an unfamiliar house, laying on a bed. Sunlight streamed in through the window, and all of her wounds had been bandaged. Where was she? Who had brought her here? What had happened?

Her eyes widened. _**Who**_ was she?

She couldn't seem to recall...anything.

Looking down at her chest, she placed a hand on the bandage that had been placed on her chest. Immediately, a small orange glow appeared around the wounded area, accompanied by a searing heat throughout her entire body. She groaned and shut her eyes from the pain, taking her hand away from the hurt area.

"Oh, you're awake!"

The woman turned her head towards where the voice had come from. At the opposite end of the room was a nurse, a neatly-folded grey cloak in her hands.

"I finished fixing your cloak after treating all your wounds. I still have to work on your dress. Your gloves remained completely undamaged. They're very beautiful, I must say." The nurse smiled as she set the cloak down next to a pair of white silk gloves that were on a nearby table and walked over to kneel beside the bed. "How are you feeling?"

The woman blinked. "I-I'm... fine...How did I get here?" she asked.

"A man brought you here. He ordered me to take care of you, then immediately left."

A man… "Did he say what his name was?"

The nurse frowned and shook her head in reply. "No, I'm afraid not. But he did tell me to let you know that he hopes you remember his order."

"His order…" the woman repeated, her voice barely above a murmur. Her eyes widened as she suddenly recalled something, the memory triggering itself almost as quickly as a lightning bolt striking the ground in a storm:

" _When you wake up from this, I want you to immediately head for the land of Wallachia in Romania. When you get there, ask where you can find the man who goes by the name of 'Raphael Sorel'."_

"...Miss?" the nurse asked, worry showing on her young face. "Are you alright?"

The woman blinked again. "Y-yes," she responded, attempting to sound as convincing as possible. "I'm fine."

A smile returned to the nurse's face. "Would you… mind telling me your name?" she asked, her head tilting to the side just slightly.

A moment of silence passed between the two of them. The woman glanced outside, watching as a few sunrays dared to break through the clouds, illuminating the snow it fell upon so that it turned a pure white. The wind blew ever so softly, picking up some of the snowflakes and making them dance and twirl in the air. It was all so beautiful. So...familiar.

And then, without warning, a name came to her as suddenly as the previous memory had just moments ago.

"Florence…" she said, breaking the silence. "Florence Albyn."


	2. Chapter 2 - The Right Direction

The shopkeeper bid Florence good day as she left the store, a few books tucked underneath one arm. The cold wind hit her face as she exited, greeting her like an unwanted guest, and she wrapped her cloak tighter around her.

Earlier the nurse had given her money, which Florence had kindly rejected at first. However, the young woman had insisted that she take it. "A little Christmas generosity" she had called it.

Walking through town, Florence smiled as she recalled how kind-hearted the nurse had been. She'd fixed all her clothes, treated her wounds, given her food, and provided her with money and medicine to help dull the pain upon her farewell. Even after buying the books, she still had quite a bit of money left over, and Florence found herself unsure of just how to use it.

She eventually stopped after a bit of walking and looked up at the sky, watching the snowflakes drift down. Slowly, she extended one gloved hand and moved it in a small circle. Immediately, the embroidered pale blue symbols on both her white gloves seemed to glow. It wasn't a very bright illumination, just dim enough so that one would only notice the glow if they looked hard enough. Before long, the snowflakes around her hand followed the movements of her fingertips no matter what pattern she traced in the open air: circle, straight line, zigzag, anything. They only fell back towards the ground when the glowing ceased as she closed her fist and lowered her hand.

She'd first found out she had this strange ability earlier that day. She had been passing by a group of children throwing snowballs at each other, when one of the boys suddenly missed his target, sending his snowball flying straight at her. She'd had only a couple seconds before she suddenly realized what was happening and upon finally doing so immediately shielded her face with her hands. Upon realizing that the snowball hadn't hit her, she looked up just in time to notice the glow on her gloves and see the snowball bounce back the way it came, hitting the kid who had thrown it square in the face. Afterwards she had tried to manipulate some of the falling snow after taking her gloves off only to find out that it didn't work.

So the gloves gave her magical powers… Turning her hand over to look at her palm, Florence stared at the blue embroidery lines that zigzagged and twirled in the white fabric as unpredictably as the wind. The nurse was right: The gloves _were_ pretty.

'I wonder…' Florence said to herself, mumbling under her breath. '...are there others like me?'

"Pardon me, Miss."

Florence turned in the direction of the voice she had heard to see a well-dressed gentleman with a bushy moustache standing outside the door to a shop.

"I couldn't help but notice your attire," the man continued. "It's much too cold out to be wearing a sleeveless dress at this time of year." Smiling, he gestured towards the shop's window. "Would you care to try on one of our dresses?"

Florence glanced at the shop's window. There, hanging in the window for all to see, was a long-sleeved gown. The skirt was flowing and dark green, white the rest of the upper body was pure white. Smiling, she turned to face the gentleman again.

"Thank you for the offer, sir," she said. "But I'm sure I'll be quite alright."

The man frowned at her reply and cocked his head curiously. "But you could get dreadfully sick."

Florence only gave a small laugh and continued to smile. "Really, I'm fine. The cold doesn't bother me one bit. Thank you, though."

The man said nothing as Florence continued on her way. He didn't know it, but what Florence had said to him had been the truth. The cold didn't bother her. Despite her attire, she didn't feel cold in the slightest.

She continued walking through the town, listening to all the sounds around her. There were people singing carols, folks chatting happily with each other, and a horse or two trotting through the streets. Somewhere, the sound of church bells resonated in the air. Everyone seemed to have a smile on their face. There was a feeling of immense joy in the air, and Florence couldn't help but smile along with them.

But her face suddenly fell when she looked down to see two little children, a boy and a girl, huddled together on the ground beside a bakery. Their clothes were torn and clearly too small for them. Their faces were dirty and their blond hair was unkempt. The boy had one arm around the girl, holding her as they both shivered, while holding a small cup in his other ungloved hand.

Peering into the little boy's cup, Florence's eyes widened upon seeing that there were only a couple coins in it. This was unspeakable! Why was no one giving these poor, suffering children money? They clearly needed it more than anyone walking through the streets! Slowly, she reached for her bag of money, and upon untying it poured most of her remaining money into the cup.

The little boy's eyes lit up instantly as the coins clattered into the cup, and for a moment he stared at Florence, completely speechless. But soon, an overjoyed smile curled his lips.

"Th-th-...Thank you…" he said through chattering teeth.

Florence smiled at the little boy, and her grin widened when the little girl shuffled over to her and wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug.

"...M-merry C-Christmas," the girl said as she pulled away, a timid smile on her face.

Florence continued smiling and waved at the two children as they hurried inside the bakery. But as she stood up and began to walk away, something in the nearby alleyway caught her eye:

There were multiple drops of red on the snow, as well as some on the wall.

Immediately, she felt an intense heat flare up in her chest; the fire quickly spreading throughout the rest of her body. The agonizing pain made Florence nearly drop her books and double over, but she managed to stay upright clutched her chest tightly. She suddenly recalled everything about the attack that happened the night before: the slashes, the bite, the appearance of her attacked, and finally the glowing red shard.

Not wanting to look at the site anymore, Florence hastily collected herself and turned away. But even as she walked away, there was one aspect of the fight that perplexed her. Her attacker had bitten her neck and drank her blood. Was he a vampire?

Slowly, Florence reached up with her free hand and touched the side of her neck. Immediately, she felt a bandage, indicating that the nurse had attempted to treat it.

Now she was beginning to get confused. Why was this vampire having her, of all people, seek out this man he was searching for?

But that question quickly left Florence's mind as she suddenly realized something: She knew where to go. She felt as if she was now connected with someone; that there was some sort of link between the two of them.

Whether she was now connected with her attacker or the man she was supposed to find, she did not know. But what she did know now was the exact direction to head in order to get to Romania.


	3. Chapter 3 - Rowan

The moon shone bright above the trees as Florence continued making her way through the forest. She felt as if she had made decent progress in the time she had been traveling, although she really wished that she could have made it to another town before sundown. Then again, the quiet of the wilderness _was_ rather peaceful.

Smiling to herself, Florence searched for a place to settle down for the night. Eventually, she found a small clearing with a frozen stream running through it. There was a large rock right beside the stream; not incredibly massive, but still large enough for one to sit down and rest upon.

With a wave of her gloved hand, Florence whisked the snow off the rock, as well as some of the snow surrounding the rock, before walking over and setting her bag down on the cleared earth. She sat down on the rock and stayed there, remaining completely motionless for a moment to take in the peaceful silence surrounding her.

However, despite the light being emanated from the full moon, it was still really dark. She needed to make a fire. There was absolutely no telling what could be lurking in the shadows, possibly waiting to attack her.

Florence stood up and immediately began to search for sticks on the ground to burn. She did manage to find a couple, but because of the snow they had been under before she'd cleared the area they were currently too wet to burn. She contemplated putting them down for a moment before ultimately deciding to keep the twigs instead, just in case there was not much else to use.

She put the small sticks into her bag and crept around the small area, keeping an eye out for other things to burn as well as potential dangers. As she picked up more twigs, she secretly wished that her gloves could make her manipulate more than just ice and snow. It sure would be nice to just conjure up a flame whenever she needed one…

Eventually, Florence had found enough sticks, and she quickly made her way back to her spot, placing her bag down onto the ground. Still wincing slightly from her injuries, she carefully knelt down and placed her sticks on the ground along with a couple dry leaves she had picked off a dead tree. Afterwards, she took out a small piece of flint and proceeded to grab a small rock as she removed a dagger from her belt.

A loud rustling coming from somewhere behind her immediately made her stop. Slowly, she turned to look; her grip on her dagger tightening as the rustling became louder. Before long, a small black shape lept out of a bush. It stood still for a moment before lowering its head to the ground and making its way over to her bag.

It took Florence a while to make out the dark shape in the moonlight, but after a moment she suddenly realized what it was: a wolf pup.

She smiled and put her dagger away as she watched the pup sniff her bag, nuzzling it curiously with its nose. The wolf did not seem to notice Florence as she carefully inched closer to it until she was just a couple inches from her bag. Startled, it backed away into the bushes again, eyes locked on her.

Florence only continued to smile at the wolf pup, finding the little thing to be absolutely adorable. Slowly, she opened her bag and took out some of the salted meat she had bought earlier while she had been in town. She held it out towards the wolf pup.

"It's okay," she said, speaking in a hushed voice so as to not frighten the little creature. "You can have some."

The wolf pup hesitated for a moment, its ears flattened against its head as it stared at her, unsure of what to do. Cautiously, it took a step forward; its gaze unwavering as it moved. Before long, it had finally crept over to her hand. The wolf pup sniffed the meat for a moment, then eagerly gobbled it up without warning, its tiny tail wagging.

Florence's smile widened as she watched the pup cheer up, and as soon as it was done eating she quickly took out a little more meat. The wolf eagerly ate that piece up too, and before long it even allowed Florence to pet them. Florence gave a laugh as she scratched the wolf pup behind the ears.

"You're so cute," she said. After a moment, she pulled her hand away and put the meat back into her bag. "Are you all alone too?"

The wolf pup continued to stare at her and wagged its tail as if to respond.

"Well, you can stay with me if you want." Florence moved back over to where she had put down the rock and piece of flint and picked them back up. "Just give me a minute. Hopefully I can get this fire going soon."

* * *

It took some time and effort, but Florence was eventually able to get a small fire going. As the tiny flames flickered and danced, illuminating the area around her, she continued to sit idly by, making some snow swirl around in midair in small circular motions with one hand. The wolf pup sat next to her, its head slightly tilted as it watched the spectacle with immense curiosity.

Florence smiled at the adorable pup, and without warning flicked her wrist to the right, sending the snow flying in that direction. The pup barked as the flurry shot over his head and quickly gave chase. This amused Florence greatly, and she laughed as the wolf pup scampered in every direction she sent the snow, being careful to keep the pup in her sights. She flicked her wrist again, this time making the palm of her hand face upward. This caused the snow she had been controlling to shoot upwards into a nearby tree.

The wolf pup immediately dashed over to the tree and continued barking, placing its front paws on the trunk of the tree as it tried to see where the snow it was chasing had gone. Still smiling, Florence got up and walked over to the wolf pup.

"Now now, that's enough, little guy," she said, picking him up. "It's gone now. No more."

As Florence pet the wolf's head, his ears lowered slightly and he emitted a quiet whine as he looked up at her.

"I know, I know. You wanna keep playing." Slowly, Florence put the wolf back down onto the ground. "But I can't risk having you run off."

The pup met her eyes and barked as if to say something to her. Florence sighed and shook her head.

"I know you think you're strong, but you're still a pup. And you don't have a mother to take care of you."

She paused as soon as the words left her mouth, thinking about what she had just said. After a moment, she realized something.

"Unless… you think of _**me**_ as your mother…" She glanced down and met the wolf's eyes. "...Do you?"

Again, the wolf pup barked, its tiny tail wagging once more.

Florence smiled. "Well then, if that's the case, I'm going to have to give you a name, aren't I?" She watched as the wolf pup sat down, still staring up at her, before glancing at the tree he had tried to climb up. It was then that she suddenly noticed the tiny red berries hanging on the branches. She recalled reading about this kind of tree in a book. It was called…

"...Rowan." Florence paused, thinking for a moment about how the name sounded, before looking back down at the wolf pup, who was currently walking about and sniffing the ground. "How do you like the name Rowan?"

Rowan immediately ceased his pacing and look up at her. He stared at her for a moment, seemingly pondering his answer, before wagging his tail again.

"You like it, huh?" Florence asked, smiling upon seeing his reaction. "Alright. Rowan it is."

She took a step forward towards her spot, but before she could do anything else the ground seemed to tremble without warning. Florence stumbled, momentarily losing her balance as she tried to process what was happening. By the time she finally regained her footing, the tremors had stopped, only to quickly start up again. Rowan's fur stood on end as he faced a section of the forest that was out of the light from the fire, and he growled.

Following his gaze, Florence noticed a massive dark shape in the distance. The ground trembled with every step it took. It was clear that whatever was headed towards them clearly wasn't human.


End file.
